kaleidoscope fractures (you will always be alone)
by Someone aka Me
Summary: Piers is six months old and he is crying. He is crying, and he is alone. No one is coming. He will not remember this moment. But he will remember what it means. No one will come when he cries. Eventually, he stops crying. :: For Amber.


HSWW: Assignment 8. Performing Arts: Task #3: Write about someone who feels underappreciated. Alt: Write a Hurt/Comfort

QLFC: Demiguise: Write about someone who is treated like they're "invisible" or don't belong.

Optionals: (action) getting down on one's knees; (object) kaleidoscope; (song) Satisfied from Hamilton

 _Where are you taking me?_

 _I'm about to change your life._

 _Then by all means, lead the way_

 _~Satisfied_

…

Piers is six months old and he is crying.

He is crying, and he is alone.

No one is coming.

He will not remember this moment. But he will remember what it means.

No one will come when he cries.

Eventually, he stops crying.

…

Piers is two years old and starting nursery. His mother drops him off. He waves goodbye.

She doesn't wave back.

…

Piers is smaller than most of the other children, slim and lean and shorter. He wonders if this is why they seem to look right through him.

He watches. He watches as the other boys talk, voices loud and echoing. He watches as they push and run and play. "You wouldn't!" yells one boy.

"Try me!" yells another. Piers watches, and observes, and does not know what he would say.

He thinks about his father saying that children should be seen and not heard — often with "and it's best if they aren't seen at all" added on. He's done his best to follow that: to become invisible.

He doesn't know how to play like the other boys.

So when they are let out onto the playground, Piers sits in the corner and watches them play.

He lifts a kaleidoscope to his eye, watching the world prism and fracture, wondering if it fractures enough if they'll look like friends.

...

Piers is four years old the first time someone calls child services about him.

He doesn't understand why. His parents don't hurt him. They would never hurt him.

He tells this to the man who comes — a short, stocky, dark haired man with a smile that is both kind and harried.

Piers is just over two stone but he's always been skinny, he tells the man.

The man nods and takes notes and asks questions where Piers can tell he doesn't really have time to listen to the answers, and then he leaves.

Piers never sees him again, and he forgets.

...

Piers is five years old when his mother deigns to attend parent's evening at his school.

By now, he is old enough not to hope this means a renewed interest in him. Not with the way she tugs his hand impatiently and won't stop looking around at the other parents.

He plays with LEGO in the corner as his teacher, Mrs. Havisham, says, "Piers is a sweet boy. Very quiet, well-behaved."

He's surprised she knows his name. She's certainly never said it aloud before.

"Good," says his mother. "Is there anything else?"

Mrs. Havisham hesitates, and lowers her voice — but not low enough that Piers can't catch the words. "I'm not certain he has any friends."

His mother waves a dismissive hand. "He's always been an odd boy. It's not like it's any wonder no one wants to befriend him. I wouldn't worry."

Piers is not disappointed.

He's not.

 _(He is, and he's not even sure why. He thought he was done hoping.)_

Mrs. Havisham blinks, but then seems to take that in stride. "Very well. Here's a sheet with his marks. As you can see, he's making quite average marks. Any questions?"

"No," says his mother. "That will be all, thank you."

She stands, and she strides out of the room without even glancing at Piers.

He scrambles up and hurries after her best he can.

He doesn't see Mrs. Havisham's gaze follow him, carrying something akin to pity.

…

Piers is six years old and his classmates are laughing as a girl trips and sprawls, everything in her hands flying across the floor. A pencil rolls to a stop at Piers' feet. He picks it up, and then moves forward and goes to his knees, picking up notebooks and papers. He hands them to her in a messy pile, even as some of the boys continue to laugh.

She does not look at him. She does not say anything.

She stands, and she walks away, leaving him there, on his knees.

He is beginning to wonder if he will ever be seen.

…

Piers is six years old when his mother refers to him as 'the mistake' to his face.

He does not cry.

Not in front of her.

…

Piers is seven years old.

He is seven years old and his mother has not spoken to him in four days and the last thing his father said to him was two weeks ago and the words were "Don't you ever go outside, boy?"

He is seven years old and no one has ever given him more than a passing glance. He has very little family outside of his parents — his father had a brother, once, whom he does not talk about, and that brother had a son whom Piers has never met. Other than that, he has no family.

He has no friends.

He is alone.

..

Piers is eight years old when a man he doesn't recognize and a woman in a police uniform show up at his door.

"Hey, Piers," says the man. "My name is Max, and I'm your cousin."

He kneels down and puts himself on level with Piers, looking him in the eye.

For the first time, Piers feels _seen_.

Max sighs. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but. There was a car accident. And… well. Both of your parents died. I'm sorry."

"Oh," says Piers.

He wonders if he's supposed to feel something.

The truth is, he hasn't seen his father in three weeks and his mother in five days. He wonders if it will make any difference, them being gone.

He'll have to figure out how to get groceries, but otherwise, he doesn't suppose much will change.

Max is still looking at him. Usually people have stopped looking at him by now. Piers shifts. He wonders if he's supposed to say something.

Max sighs again. "We don't… I mean. We don't have any other family. So I guess that means it's you and me, now."

Piers tilts his head.

Max looks at him, and then he smiles, a little fond and a little pained. Then he stands. "Will you come with me?"

"Where are you taking me?" Piers asks.

"You're going to come live with me, if that's all right."

Piers considers this for a moment. It does solve the grocery issue.

He shrugs, and follows his cousin out.

…

Max makes cookies.

Max enrolls him in a new school and asks him about his homework and whether he's made any friends and _makes cookies_. Chocolate chip ones, with extra chocolate. He likes to break them in half fresh out of the oven and pull the two halves apart, watching the melty chocolate string between them.

Max is 23 and he has a boyfriend named Jeremy who makes an excellent stir fry, and with whom Max is easily affectionate. He lives in a house that once belonged to his parents, but they're dead now, just like Piers'.

Max smiles at him.

Max talks to him _every day_. Sometimes _multiple times a day_.

And so it is that Piers starts over.

And this time, he's tired of being invisible. He's ready to be seen.

So he goes to his new school and he finds the first fight that he can and he jumps into the middle of it.

He comes up bruised and bloody and grinning, side by side with a blonde boy who introduces himself as Dudley.

He looks at Piers with bright blue eyes and he _sees him_.

And Piers knows that things are different now.

…

Seasonal: Days: November 1st - Men Make Dinner Day: Write about a male character cooking.; Autumn: (theme) change; Dessert: Chocolate Chips: (genre) Family

Fantastic Beasts: Demiguise - (word) Invisible & Belgium - (Food) Chocolate

WC: Showtime: 11. Chava Ballet Sequence - (word) Affectionate; Lo's Lowdown: C7: Danny Rand: write about someone socially awkward. Alt. write about an orphan

Zoo: Penguins - Emotion; Lonely / Dialogue; "You wouldn't!" / "Try me." / Word; Mistake

Marauder's Map: 103. plot point: fighting; 76. object: chocolate

Fortnightly: Around the Board: 2. 4 Privet Drive: Write about a canon Muggle.


End file.
